Every year I work with the Legacy Institute for Nature and Culture to produce a calendar. But this isn't just any pretty picture calendar. It's a calendar that works toward the conservation of Florida's most imperiled landscapes and helps to save of some of Florida's most endangered wildlife. This is the Florida Forever Conservation Photography Calendar.

Starting last year LINC partnered with the Flickr group Florida Conservation Photographers to host a contest that would allow an avenue for all the great conservation-minded photographers across the state to get directly involved in Florida conservation efforts, publish a photograph with the likes of Clyde Butcher, John Moran, Jeff Ripple and many others, and win $250.

LINC has turned this into an annual contest. We've posted the rules for the 2011 calendar. You must be a member of the Florida Conservation Photographer's Flickr group to be eligible for the contest. Once you've joined FCP, you can then post your images to the Florida Forever Flickr group for judging. Contest ends April 1, 2010. Here are the links you'll need:

Florida Conservation Photographers Flickr Group

Florida Forever Flickr Group

See the 2010 calendar

Feel free to email me with any questions regarding the contest. Check out the images below to see examples of various images that I photographed of Florida Forever landscapes. These are similar to the images that could be eligible for the contest.

Caber Coastal Connector – Levy County

Wacissa-Aucilla River Sinks – Jefferson and Taylor counties

South Goethe – Levy County

Goethe State Forest – Levy County (This photo was taken adjacent to the South Goethe Project.)

Annutteliga Hammock – Citrus and Hernando counties

In light of yesterday's blog post, I am posting more images photographed this morning that follow the same idea as Defining Moments, the idea to consider different view points when photographing the same scene.

With record cold temperatures in Florida persisting through today, this morning was my last chance to get out on the Santa Fe River and photograph good quality steam fog rising from the river. Upon arriving the sun had just broke the horizon and the steam fog rising from the river was palpable. I noticed across the river sunlight blasting through trees, which were enveloped in steam fog. So I grabbed my 18-200 mm and 100-400mm lens and, using almost the entire focal range of these two lenses, proceeded to make photographs.

The images below are a great visual example of what goes through my mind when photograph one subject. This sequence of 12 images starts wide then narrows to what is my favorite image. Sure, I like a lot of the in-between images. But, as is often the case, we photographers work toward the best shot, starting with the safe shot, the sure bet, then playing with, moving, and testing our vision, before we end up with the shot we like the most. The best shot may not come at the end, but it rarely comes at the beginning. By viewing these images you can almost "see" the progression of my thoughts. When viewing these images, consider how the mind's eye of the photographer works in the manner I just described.

Again, the teachable moment here is to challenge yourself to see your subject in different ways, to notice the differences between each moment in time. In this case, for example, the thickness of the steam fog rising from the river and wafting into the trees constantly changed moment to moment, affecting the quality of light. Seeing these differences in each moment and in the composition of your subject before you, whether it's through using different lenses or moving to a different view point, will help you become a better photographer.

A teachable moment occurred to me while editing through images captured this morning on the Santa Fe River. Below is a photograph taken with a very wide 10 mm lens. It's dark and foreboding, offering a chance of escape through the tunnel of light. Just follow the light, and all of your worries will disappear. I like that this photograph conjures up the emotions that I described. And I like the photograph. 

But below this image you will see another. It was taken from the exact same position, only with a longer lens. It's also foreboding. You see the vines and branches you must fight through to get to the light. It's eerily beautiful. What makes this image more effective than the other (in my opinion) is that I've isolated the more striking elements of arching branches, vines and light from the rather featureless water and opaque blackness of the giant cypress trees in the previous image. The closer-up image not only highlights form but also color. (You might notice the subtle blue where the shadow of smoke and water lie untouched by the orange sun.) This image is also more interesting. You can't quite tell what it is right away. It quizzes you to discover its beginning and end.

The teachable moment is that next time you are out photographing nature, think about what the scene before you will look like if you zoom in, cutting out the extraneous peripheral elements. Challenge yourself to cut out as much as you can. If you feel like you've cut out too much, back off a little. The point is remember to try different ways of seeing one thing. Often one scene, especially landscapes, can be photographed well in many different ways. Explore them all to ensure you return home with a great image that tells the story.

Below are more images that show a mid-range view of the flooded cypress forest I photographed this morning. I sought to photograph a "grand" landscape using a wide angle lens, but quickly changed my point of view after seeing that using a moderate telephoto lens to isolate the backlit steam fog, trees, branches and water would be more effective at telling the story of my experience in this flooded forest.

I hope to head back  tomorrow at sunrise for more photographs of rising steam fog in the Santa Fe River. We've had record cold temperatures here in Florida and the inland freshwater rivers and springs are especially dynamic at sunrise with all that moisture from the warm water condensing with the cold, dry air. Tomorrow, I just might have to get my feet wet. Stay tuned ...

On one of the coldest mornings of the year, I spent the night outside in my tent not only to test how well my 15 degree sleeping bag would hold up, but also to challenge my fortitude. Eighteen degree temperatures presented me with an opportunity to be challenged, not just to scrape ice crystals off my windshield.

I survived. Accompanied by a silk cover, my down-filled sleeping bag keep me insulated from the cold, mostly. The biting cold nipped at my body where the down was most thin. A  balaklava kept my nose, forehead and neck insulated. I slept only in a skin-tight base layer made of polyester and spandex, with wool socks and gloves covering vulnerable digits.

After waking, I made my way to the Santa Fe River to photograph steam fog rising from the warm water.

Rise and shine! I awoke to 18 degree temperatures at 7 am.

A small spring feeds into the Santa Fe River. This river runs within a few miles of my home and is central to my earliest experiences in nature. Despite having a lake as its source, the flow is largely driven by springs. Some, like this one, are but a trickle and have no official name. Others feed hundreds of millions of gallons per day into the river and are known to professional cave divers the world over.

Many islands (Rum Island is pictured here) and shallow spots rise from the limestone bottom creating habitat for many animals. The Santa Fe River is visually untouched. No dams or developments. Few homes and farms. Pristine to the eye. But it is not immune to human impact. Pollution from agricultural and residential fertilizers, invasive aquatic plants such as hydrilla, and, as of late, water bottling threaten the river.

Shortly after the New Year holiday and just before school started, I took my 12 year-old-nephew camping on Florida's Nature Coast. As cold weather moved into the state (and has stayed ever since), we embarked on a short but exhilarating canoe trip to Piney Point in Taylor County where Tony spotted a small clump of trees he determined to be a great place to camp. I agreed. It was one of many agreements we had on our trip, as I challenged his judgment to make decisions under my oversight. He was keen in addition to being a great companion. I had one rule – don't complain. He didn't. We explored beaches, marsh and coastal scrub, dirtying our clothes and body, even drawing blood. We stayed warm by a small camp fire and ate well. In short, we enjoyed every second of our adventure.

A baby horseshoe crab backlit by the setting sun.

Fire by star light.

I wish I could get my peer camping buddies to be this helpful!

My best Homer Simpson impression. "Why you little ... !!"

We found all sorts of totally weird stuff. This is the partial legs and body of an adult horseshoe crab.

I promised Tony I'd take him to my secret beach on our way home. We decided to call it, "Uncle Eric's Island". (See blog entry "My Island" for more images of this place.)

© Tony Tell. Tony captured this photo. (I have have a budding photographer on my hands ...)